Epigrams: To Lucy, Countess of Bedford, with John Donne's Satires

Lucy, you brightness of our sphere, who areLife of the Muses' day, their morning star!If works, not th' author's, their own grace should look,Whose poems would not wish to be your book?But these, desir'd by you, the maker's endsCrown with their own. Rare poems ask rare friends.Yet satires, since the most of mankind beTheir unavoided subject, fewest see;For none e'er took that pleasure in sin's senseBut, when they heard it tax'd, took more offence.They, then, that living where the matter is bred,Dare for these poems, yet, both ask and readAnd like them too, must needfully, though few,Be of the best; and 'mongst those best are you,Lucy, you brightness of our sphere, who areThe Muses' evening, as their morning star.